Friday, November 20, 2009

Digital Amusement

Today, my friends, I will share with you a little slice of life here at Chez Sara. You will see, through the magic of the Digital Age, some things that I recently encountered around my house. And then you will nod your head knowingly and say to yourself "Ahh, yes. She has truly gone 'round the bend this time! She calls this entertainment?"

And the answer to that is, yes. Yes I do.

The other day when I was walking through the house, I was noticing many of my childrens' toys lying on the floor. Not a strange occurrence round these parts, for sure. But what caught my attention was the strange mixture of toys and the ways that they were left. It was almost as if my children wanted me to be entertained. I know that really, they just dropped the toys and left them when the fancy struck and that the things that I saw were just products of my very active, supremely warped imagination.

Shall I share? Of course I should!!

First I encountered Woody about to become dino chow.

See the look on Woody's face? Sheer terror at what is about to befall him.

Then I found Swinger Monkey and No Name Dog at the foot of the stairs. Right below our loft. It looks as if a murder suicide has taken place. I'm not sure who pushed who, but I'm thinking the culprit is the dog with no name. Having no name is enough to make anyone crazy. I know that dog. He had issues.

And look! Here's Barbie. If you could add water, it would look as if she were in a hot tub with a bunch of superheros and villains. Also? Because of her size compared to the miniature size of the superheros and bad guys, it looks like the Attack Of The 50 Foot Woman.

Next up is what I like to call Naked Contortionist Barbie. She's not available in stores. (Wonder what kinds of google hits that particular phrase will generate! Heh.)

This is what the Rennaisance Girls are playing with these days. My particular RenGrrl takes her Nascar vehicle off-roading while delighting the crowds with her mad vocal skillz. And the super-sized microphone (in pink, no less) is just the thing to reach the masses.

Weapons? Check. One for each hand? Check. And an extra to tuck in your pants? Check. (Note to self: remind boy children that if they should ever tote a real firearm, pants are not good holsters.) You should know that this is only a fraction of the 487 Nerf-type guns owned by my sons. Truly I find the little darts everywhere.

Look! A tete-a-tete! What in the world do you suppose they are discussing?

And finally, there is poor Jessie. She's lost her arms. How will she ever use her lasso now? What will become of the little dogies? How will she get them along? The world may never know.

I do have an idea of what may have caused Tilly to have an upset stomach though. Probably too much plastic in her diet. I think it must be particularly hard to digest cowgirl arms. Sigh.

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